


i have become

by akelios



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Abduction, Dresden Files Kink Meme, Gen, Violence, deaging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-20 01:15:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/579689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akelios/pseuds/akelios
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her flashlight started to flicker as she reached under the bed to shake the kid. Murphy gripped one wrist gently and pulled a little. The arm moved at almost the same moment her flashlight gave out. But just before the light died, it showed her the familiar dull glint of a pentacle amulet resting against the kids chest.</p>
<p>She dropped the arm and sat back. "Oh fuck." Mouses' answering whine seemed to say, 'You're telling me'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i have become

The apartment was dark and cold. Murphy forced the door open enough to squeeze in and then leaned on it, forcing it closed again.

A pair of golden cat eyes reflected light from the street as Mister jumped down from his place on the book shelf and prowled over to the food dishes in the kitchen. Empty.

Mouse whined from the far side of the room, outside Harry's closed bedroom door. Harry had missed game night with the Alpha's, which hadn't happened in years. He'd missed a morning meeting with her and hadn't called. Which he just flat out knew better than to do. He wasn't answering the phone, he wasn't at the office. And now that she was in the apartment, everything just felt wrong.

No lights, fine. No fire, okay. It was a pretty mild day after all, and Harry was used to the basement always being a bit chilly. But Mister and Mouse not having any food? Mouse crying at the door? No way did Harry neglect his pets, not even for a second. Not unless he was hurt. Or- Murphy shook her head to banish the thought.

Not that there were a whole lot of places to hide, but Murphy cleared the main room before she moved over to where Mouse was sitting. He looked up at her with worry very clear in his eyes and then back at the door.

Murphy nudged him with one foot, gently, and pointed to the far side of the doorway. He whined softly one more time and then shifted himself, leaving the area right in front of the door clear. She kept her gun out in her right hand and turned the knob with her left, giving the door just a little push as she did so.

It swung open easily, soundlessly, until it thumped softly against the far wall of Harry's tiny bedroom. The doorway was pitch black. No movement. She was reaching to try her flashlight when Mouse gave another deep, deep cry and rushed past her into the room.

"Dammit. Mouse!" She clicked the flashlight on as she followed the dog in. The light was dull, like the battery was dying, but it showed her the empty bed, sheets and covers and pillows piled on the floor in front of it, crumpled and tossed.

Mouse was crouched on the floor, head sticking under the bed, whining and pawing at the tangled sheets, trying to push them out of the way. Murphy checked the rest of the room, which took about two seconds. Nothing behind the door, no one in the closet. Which left under the bed.

She crouched down and twisted so that she could see under the bed. If there had been something dangerous under there Mouse would have let her know way before this point. He'd probably have killed it himself. The way he was acting made her think it was Harry under there, but that was impossible. Murphy didn't care how skinny Harry was, nearly seven feet of wizard did not fit under his dinky little bed.

The fading light showed her a tangled mess of black hair and pale, pale skin. A small form curled around itself. The arms were tucked up over the face, so all she could see was one closed eye and the dirty curve of a cheek.

"Shit." She glanced at Mouse, who seemed to be thinking the same thing. Then she turned back to the kid sleeping under Harry's bed. "Hey, hey kid." Soft, so she didn't startle them, but loud enough to wake them. Nothing. No movement. She tried again. The kid stirred, a little shift of limbs, but nothing else. No sign of waking.

Her flashlight started to flicker as she reached under the bed to shake the kid. Murphy gripped one wrist gently and pulled a little. The arm moved at almost the same moment her flashlight gave out. But just before the light died, it showed her the familiar dull glint of a pentacle amulet resting against the kids chest.

She dropped the arm and sat back. "Oh fuck." Mouses' answering whine seemed to say, 'You're telling me'.

It was awkward, but Murphy managed to pull the boy out from under the bed. He was small and very skinny. Not just the skinny of a kid who hasn't started really growing yet, but the skinny of someone who hasn't been getting quite enough to eat lately.

He'd stirred a little and muttered as she moved him. His eyes had even opened at one point, but remained unfocused and then closed again almost immediately. Once she had him out she lifted him to the bed and cursed Harry for never replacing his light bulbs.

She needed to get a good look at the kid but the tiny windows in the bedroom were useless and her flashlight was well and truly dead. So she had to spend several long minutes hunting up matches and then getting enough candles into the bedroom to give her some lighting. It was still completely inadequate, but until she was sure the kid wasn't hurt she didn't want to try moving him any further. And small as he was it would still be a lot easier if he could walk out there on his own. The boy was wearing an over sized pair of boxers and the amulet. Nothing else. Harry's usual sleeping attire.

Once the initial shock had passed, Murphy reminded herself that the pentacle didn't mean that the kid was Harry. He'd taken an interest in endangered kids before. He'd given away protective charms and the like before. So the boy could just be someone involved in Harry's latest case.

It was thin, but it was a possibility. A grin twisted her face as she thought about it. How weird was life when the better, more logical explanation of what might have happened was 'magically de-aged wizard'? What she really needed was for the kid to wake up.

But he showed no signs of it. The light in the room was as bright as she could get it and Mouse kept nudging the kids hand with his nose, whining and rumbling deep in his chest. Not the growl he used in warning or combat, but a low sort of soothing sound. Like he was talking, muttering under his breath.

Okay. Decision time. She needed to wake the kid up. She needed to find out who he was and what his connection was to Harry's disappearance. If he was Harry, that would be one major problem down and a huge new one grown up. Until she had some clue of whether she was looking for a missing person or a magic solution, she was stuck.

Murphy made two phone calls.

The first one was to Butters. Even in the bad lighting she could see that what she'd taken for dirt was bruising. It wasn't too bad on his face, one large and mostly faded one on his cheek, a healing split lip and a little swelling around the eye all on the same side of his face. Experience told her that it was from someone much larger laying into him with a good hard slap. The bruises got darker and more numerous on his chest. There were a few on his arms, like someone had grabbed him, and there was at least one large irregularly shaped mark on his upper thigh. Murphy assumed there were more on his back, there always were, but when she tried to roll him over he'd thrust one hand out at her, a pulse of some sort of force washing over her. It hadn't moved her, or hurt, but she got the message. He didn't want to do that.

Butters was a good friend. He'd worked the night shift at the morgue, sitting around waiting for dead bodies to arrive, but the minute she used the words 'Harry' and 'hurt', he'd been wide awake and promising to be there as soon as possible.

Her second call had been to the Carpenters. Charity had answered. Molly was out with the smaller children, supervising a play date at a friends house. She had listened to the brief and pretty much detail-less explanation Murphy had been able to give and let her know that she would call Molly home and send her over right away.

Murphy killed time until Butters knocked on the door, filling up the food dishes, lighting the candles, getting the fire going. The little ME was there inside half an hour. He showed carrying a little red plastic cooler and a hard sided backpack.

"Where's Harry?" He stepped through into the apartment, eyes going to the floor in front of the fire and then the big couch immediately.

"In the bedroom. I'm not sure it's Harry, understand? But he's a kid, and he's hurt. I can't get him to wake up. I checked for head wounds and I didn't feel any cuts or lumps. It doesn't seem like a concussion kind of unconscious. More drugged, really."

"I'll check him out." He took the cooler into the little kitchen and set it down next to the ice box. "Emergency blood supply. C'mon. I'll need some help."

Molly arrived while they were examining the kid, cleaning and bandaging the cuts and scrapes that looked like they needed it.

She'd brought her mother, Charity. Or, probably, Murphy thought, Charity had brought herself. She was not a woman who went anywhere she didn't want to go, and she wouldn't be kept out if she wanted in, either. Mrs. Carpenter was the next best thing to a force of nature.

"Where is he?" Molly knelt down to hug Mouse, her eyes following the same path Butters' had. Floor then couch. The usual places for a wounded Harry to by lying.

"The kid is in Harry's bedroom. Butters is just finishing checking him out. If he says it's okay, we'll move him out here where the light's better and there's more room. I don't know where Harry is, Molly." A soft snort came from Charity, who was carrying a small cardboard box.

"You know better than that, Ms. Murphy. You found the child in Harry's bed, wearing his amulet? There's no sign of a struggle, nothing to indicate that Harry was taken anywhere. That atrocity he calls a car is in the lot. However it may have happened, that boy is Harry."

"Maybe. Maybe not. We can't know until he wakes up, and I'm not going to start working from a false assumption. I can't see any signs of a physical struggle, which is why I called for Molly." Murphy turned to face the young woman. "I need you to look around, wizard style. See if you see anything weird or out of place. Harry wouldn't go down without a fight, so if something happened there has to be evidence. I need you to find it."

"I'm not- I'm not sure I can. I'm still learning, ma'am. If something happened and Harry fought back, you know we'd see physical evidence. He's not exactly subtle most of the time. Any more delicate magics...if they were good enough to do something to Harry without him noticing in time to fight back, they could probably hide their traces. Or I could just overlook them entirely."

"You can't think like that. I need you to do your best here. Don't think about how much or how little you know. Just look for things that don't seem right." Molly nodded, her long blonde hair bobbing around her shoulders.

She folded to the floor, resting her hands on the backs of her legs, eyes closed, breathing slow and even. Murphy beckoned to Charity, who stepped quietly around her daughter and deeper into the room.

"I brought some of the boys' old things. You said he's about 12?" Murphy nodded. "There should be enough in here that will fit."

"Thanks. I didn't even think about clothes. Come on, leave that here and we'll go check on Butters."

The little ME was packing his tools away when the crowded into the tiny bedroom.

"So?"

"He's not bad." Murphy could feel the disbelief write itself across her features. Butters held up a hand, surrendering. "I didn't say he was healthy, or _good_ , but he's not _bad_. I've seen a lot worse. So have you. It's mostly bruises. Some cuts, but they're shallow and...I don't know. They weren't deliberate, or made by knives. More like the skin just split from something with a dull edge striking him. The worst are the burns on his back, and even those are a week or so old and healing cleanly. He's been hurt, but someone took the time afterward to take care of the injuries."

"Burns?" Charity's voice was sharp, angry. Butters' eyes went up to hers and he fiddled with his glasses.

"Burns. Little ones. If I had to guess, I'd say cigarettes for most of them on his back. There are a few on his arms, but they look like splashes. Hot oil, maybe, like you get from cooking. But healing." Charity's lips curled back. If you didn't look at her eyes, you might have mistaken it for a smile.

"He can't be Harry, then." Charity and Butters both turned to look at her. "If the burns are that old, and the bruises are a mix, some old, some fresh?" Butters nodded. "Then he can't be Harry. I saw Harry yesterday down at the station, and he wasn't hurt at all. I think he would have mentioned it if someone beat the crap out of him, held him down and burned him."

"Maybe. I mean, sure. But if it's magic? Harry's said sometimes time can get a little funny when there's heavy stuff going down. I just don't know. None of us does."

"Right." Murphy sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "And any magic strong enough to mess with time would leave marks that could be seen by a wizard. Only we are fresh out of full-fledged wizards." She looked at the boy on the bed, then glanced back out into the main room. Molly was up and moving, her eyes only half open, looking at things with an intensity, a pressure that told Murphy she was doing something with magic.

"Hello there." Charity's voice had shifted down to soft, something that just said 'mother'. When Murphy turned back into the bedroom, she saw that the tall woman was kneeling beside the bed, hands resting on the edge, unmoving. The boy was sitting up, blinking slowly, dark eyes watching the three of them, moving back and forth, confused.

"Who are you people?"

“We-” Charity began to speak at the same moment Murphy reached for the boy.

"Who're you? Where's Justin?" The boy scooted back the few inches left on the bed, until his back hit the wall. Then he started edging along that, moving back and away, into the far corner. Mouse came into the room and pushed his way through the small group until he could see the child. The boy startled at the giant dog, his eyes growing wide and frightened in his face. He tucked his legs up in closer to himself.

"Harry?" The boy looked away from Mouse, focusing back on Charity. "Harry, I'm Charity, and this is Karrin. Justin had an emergency and had to leave for a while. He asked us to come take care of you."

His eyes narrowed and he looked from Charity to Murphy and then back.

"You don't look like any of Justin's friends. And who's he?" Harry pointed at Butters.

"I'm Waldo. Waldo Butters. But most people just call me Butters."

"Waldo? That's not a real name. You made that up. Waldo." In spite of herself and the situation, Murphy felt a laugh building up in her chest. She could hear the echoes of Harry's humour, his attitude. But hearing it come out of such a small kid, in that child's voice. She turned her head so he wouldn't think she was laughing at him.

"Honey-"

"Don't call me that. My name's Harry."

"Right, of course. I'm sorry. Harry. You're right, we're not friends of Justin." Murphy could have been imagining it, but she thought Charity's tone got harder on the name, as if she had to force herself to say it. "He didn't have any notice when he had to leave, so he called us. We take care of kids when things like this happen."

"I don't think so. I want to talk to Justin. Why didn't he wake me up? I think you're lying." If it was possible, he would have pressed farther back away from them.

"I don't know why Justin didn't wake you up. Maybe he tried and couldn't? He said you were very tired last night." Harry snorted.

"No I wasn't. The _tea_ makes me sleepy." Murphy's hand clenched and she forced it to relax.

"Harry, look. I'm a police officer. Would I be here if we weren't telling the truth?"

"Prove it." She pulled out her badge and handed it over to him. Harry snatched it out of her hand and brought it up close to study it in the bad lighting. After a few seconds he sighed and something seemed to go out of him. He slumped and a look of hurt and resignation twisted his features before he obviously pushed them away and forced himself to smile at them.

"Okay. You should have just said he was sending me back. It's nice you were trying to make it easy, but I've been sent back before." He handed Murphy's badge back to her. "I guess you're the foster mom?" Harry turned his smile on Charity, who tensed, something angry in her posture before she too pushed it all away and rose to smile down at Harry.

"Yes. You're going to come live with me and my family for a while. Would that be okay?"

"Sure." He shrugged, a tiny movement of the shoulders. It clearly said, 'I don't have a choice, do I?'

"Wonderful. I have some clothes here. Why don't we let you get dressed and when you're done you can come on out to the living room."

"Clothes? Justin didn't- he didn't leave any of my stuff here?" Disbelief, and more pain that was obviously shoved down hard and fast.

"No, I'm sorry, sweetie. But these are-"

"Fine. No. It's. I'll- I'll get dressed." His voice was thick and Murphy could see Butters flinch at the tone. Harry pulled himself toward the edge of the bed, moving away from Mouse as he did so. "Could you guys..."

"We'll be just out this door. The bathroom's over there." Murphy pointed to the second small door in the room. At her nod the four of them stepped out of the room and she closed the door behind them. She thought she heard the heavy wet sound of a muffled sniffle behind her as she did so.

"Mom? What's going on?"

"Did you find anything Molly?" Murphy interrupted before Charity could answer her daughter.

"No. Nothing. It all looks the same as it always does. I don't see anything, I'm sorry."

"Crap."

"Honey, get the animals' things. Anything we might need. Does he have a carrier for Mister?" Charity was already moving around the kitchen, cleaning the few dishes in the sink and then rummaging through the ice box.

"Mister's carrier is in Harry's room. The food is-"

"I see it over here. Take it out to the car. Then come back and dump the litter pan. The bag of litter is back here in the pantry too. Once Harry's dressed you can go get the carrier and catch the cat."

"Wait, wait. You weren't serious about having him go to your house? It's not safe. He needs to stay here, behind his wards until we find out who did this." Murphy stepped into Charity's path, stopping her for a minute. Butters wisely decided to help Molly pack things up and Mouse ignored them all to stare at the closed door to Harry's bedroom.

"He cannot stay here. Are you going to move in for the duration? He's a _child_ , Ms. Murphy. He's vulnerable right now, scared and alone. He thinks his caretaker abandoned him in the middle of the night, leaving him with strangers and nothing of his own. I am _not_ leaving him here."

"Yes, dammit, I will move in here. Harry wouldn't want you putting your family in any danger for him."

"Harry doesn't get a vote right now. All the magical protection he's got won't do a damn bit of good. Whoever did this got to him _through_ the wards. Our house has a real threshold, and we have protection of our own." She pointed up, her eyebrows quirked significantly. Murphy fought the urge to make a smart-ass comment. The woman had a point.

"Plus," Molly piped up, "I can set up wards around our house. They won't be as heavy duty as what Harry's got around here, but they'll give us some warning at least." As they both focused on her, Molly ducked her head and got back to hauling out the bucket of Mouse's food.

"That's a good idea, dear." Molly glanced up at her mother and smiled, nodding shyly.

Then Charity turned back to face Murphy.

"Karrin. I told him he was coming to stay with me. I will not be made a liar. I promise you, he will be safe with us." Something shifted in the air between them. What did Harry call it, the weight of faith. Murphy thought she could feel the weight of the other woman's faith, her certainty that what she said was true. And there was something about her that made it mean more than it might for someone else.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

"I'm coming too. Angels are all well and good, but I'll feel better if I'm there."

"Of course."

~

"Wow." Harry hopped out of the van, staring up at the Carpenters' house. "This is really your house?"

"Yes. My husband Michael built it." Charity walked around to the back of the van and slid the door open, letting Mouse jump out before she reached in to start pulling out everything they'd brought with them.

"I can carry that." Harry appeared at Charity's side, trying to pull the heavy can of Mouse's dog food from her hands.

"No, I think this is too heavy for you." She pulled it gently away from him and set it down on the drive. "How about you carry this for me?" Charity handed him the empty litter pan and the half-full bag of kitty litter. Molly hauled Mister, yowling in his carrier, into the house and Harry followed her, trying to stare at everything without being caught at it.

They were still hauling things into the house, Molly and Charity lugging the dog food between the two of them when Murphy pulled up on her motorcycle. Harry was standing up near the front of the house, fidgeting because Charity had told him he couldn't help. Mouse had planted himself in front of the boy, slowly edging closer. Harry hadn't warmed up to the big dog, but he didn't actively move away any longer.

"You guys want some help?"

"No!" Molly panted out. If they let Murphy help, Harry would get upset that they'd lied and told him they didn't need his help.

"Why don't you take Harry inside and get settled in the guest room, Karrin? We'll be up in just a minute."

"Let's go, kiddo." Murphy shouldered her bag and led the boy and the dog inside.

"You're going to be staying here too?"

"Just for a little bit. Charity and her family are friends of mine." Murphy could see Harry looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Is he yours?" Harry glanced behind them at Mouse, who was following a few steps behind. The dog didn't seem to want to let Harry out of his sight.

"Um...kind of. We take care of each other, on occasion." Murphy grinned at the dog who gave her a little doggy smile and wagged his tail, thumping it against the walls of the hallway.

"What do you feed him? He's huge!"

~

"Harry, this is my husband Michael."

It had been a rough day. Charity could tell because Michael was leaning a little more heavily on his cane, his eyes crinkled up with each step. But he smiled down at Harry and didn't let any of his exhaustion or confusion show.

"Mr. Carpenter." Harry stepped down off of the stool he'd been using so he could help chop vegetables for dinner. He straightened the bottom of his t-shirt and tried to wipe his hands off on the back of his jean shorts without anyone noticing. Charity smothered a small grin at the very serious look Harry adopted.

"Pleasure to meet you Harry. You can call me Michael." He held out his hand and Harry took it, his hand tiny and pale against Michael's own tanned skin.

"Harry, why don't you go play in the yard with the kids?" He'd been a little overwhelmed once all of the children came home from school, but once the kids had gotten over the newness of Harry they'd settled down to play or do homework. Harry had left them half an hour before Michael got home, about the time Charity had gone into the kitchen to start on dinner.

Harry glanced in the direction of the backyard, then shook his head.

"I can set the table, if you don't want me in the kitchen anymore?" Charity sighed and got the plates and silverware together, setting them down on the dining room table.

"You can set the table, then go outside and play for a bit. You need some fresh air." She turned to Michael as Harry puttered around the long table. "Ms. Murphy got ahold of you?"

"She did. Molly's out in the front yard finishing up the wards. I spoke to her on the way in." He leaned back against the counter, taking weight off of his leg. "Are you sure it's safe to have him outside?"

"Molly did the backyard first and Karrin is outside with the kids. When Harry goes out Mouse'll go with him. We can't keep him cooped up in here." She took his hand in hers and kissed him.

"Does he know anything?" She shook her head.

"As far as I can tell, no. He doesn't remember anything. Molly's going to do what research she can on her own, without alerting the Council. And she's hopeful that the spell, however it was done, will wear off in a couple of days on its own."

~

Mouse's deep, echoing bark right beside Murphy's ear jolted her out of sleep. There was no sleepy confusion. One second she was asleep on the Carpenters' fold out couch, the next she was wide awake, perfectly aware.

Only Mouse wasn't standing next to the couch. She didn't see him anywhere as she rose, grabbing her gun out from beneath the couch cushion and holding it down to her side. The room was mostly dark, with just enough light coming in through the curtains for her to see that she was alone. Harry wasn't curled up on the love seat where he'd fallen asleep hours before. It was also light enough for her to see the darker rectangle of the front door, open to the cool night.

The house was silent, no hint that anyone had gotten in. Murphy worked her way over to the doorway slowly, until a basso growl rolled back to her from the front yard. She stepped out onto the front porch and swept her eyes across the lawn.

Harry's small form was lit in sharp angles by the street light. He was half way down the drive and headed for the street. Mouse was behind him, teeth sunk into the pajama top, holding Harry back even though the boy was clearly still trying to move forward.

Past them, in the street at the end of the driveway stood a figure, cloaked. A door similar to the ones she'd seen Harry produce leading into that place he called the Nevernever stood open behind the figure, leaves and bright sunlight falling through it. Something shivered over her skin and she knew that it had come from the figure. It was like a call, something that whispered 'come'. Murphy found she'd taken a half step forward without thinking about it. Harry pulled against Mouses' grip harder, the cloth starting to tear as he did.

"Harry! Stop!" She shouted and brought her gun up, aiming at the figure back lit by unnatural sunlight as she did. The cowl turned slightly towards her and then away again. Dismissing her. Harry's next step faltered and Mouse took advantage of it to pull back and to the side, knocking Harry flat into the grass. The dog released his grip on Harry and moved to stand over him, one paw resting on his back in case he tried to get up again. Mouse growled, and it hit her like a pressure wave. She could feel the sound in her bones.

The figure made a cutting gesture with one hand and a faint purple light sliced through the air. Mouse's growl rebounded off of it somehow and Murphy imagined she could see the two forces meeting in mid air, flames of purple and blue wrapping around each other.

"On the ground, now!" The figure laughed, sharp edged and vicious and took a step forward, coming onto the Carpenters' property at last.

Or at least that's what he started to do. Murphy couldn't tell whether he'd made it more than that one step, since the second his foot hit the concrete of the drive something exploded. There was a concussive burst and the night lit up, a wall of fire arcing around the house, heat singeing the grass and the trees. All she could hear was the crackling roar of the flames, like a living thing.

When it cleared, the fire slowly dying down, dissipating into a low ring of glowing embers and then nothing at all the figure was gone and so was the doorway. Mouse huffed at the empty space and took his foot off of Harry, nudging the boy with his nose to roll him over.

She ran over to the pair. Harry was asleep. Eyes closed, breathing deep and even. Murphy glanced back at the spot on the road and then at the house. Lights were coming on, Charity was already out the front door and headed for her.

~

"I think it's someone Harry's run into before. Back a couple of years ago when he rode the zombie dino through town?" Michael, Charity and Molly all nodded. "He calls him Cowl. Not that robes and cowls are exactly exclusive clothing or anything."

"At least we have some idea of where the threat is coming from now."

"Sure. We still have no idea how he did it or what he wants. More importantly, we don't know what exactly he did and how to undo it." Murphy turned to Molly. "I thought you said your wards would just give us an alert? They didn't do that. Mouse had to wake me up and then your wards exploded in this guys face." The police and fire trucks had left maybe ten minutes ago.

"That wasn't me." Molly held up her hands. "I can't do that kind of work. Not yet. And Harry wouldn't ever teach me how to make wards like that anyway. Those were lethal! I don't know why they didn't let us know when he started calling Harry with magic. They should have!"

"I fixed your wards." Harry's bare feet slapped against the tile of the kitchen as he walked through the doorway. "After you were done, when we were all outside I fixed them."

"You- there wasn't anything wrong with my wards." Molly frowned. "Was there?"

"They were beginners stuff." He grinned, proud. "Justin says if you're going to bother warding your house you need to make the consequences memorable. And you guys have a really great threshold to work with!"

Murphy glanced at Charity. Harry's wards on his apartment were lethal, but only if you tried to force your way in. This one had blown up with no visible provocation.

"Harry." He smiled up at Charity. "I know you thought you were helping, but don't do that again. Your ward could have hurt someone. What if one of the neighbors had walked into it? Or Karrin?" He frowned and glanced at Murphy.

"It wouldn't have hurt her."

"You can't know that for sure, can you? Molly, Harry, please go out and reset the wards. The way Molly had them originally, thank you." They left, Mouse walking beside Harry, the boys hand resting on his broad back.

~

"What about Thomas?"

"I can't get ahold of him. The cell number Harry had has been disconnected and he hasn't been into his shop for a month, according to the receptionist. He's 'taking a sabbatical'."

"Damn."

"I hate to mention it, Ms. Murphy, but we probably don't want to call Thomas for help anyway. He's...he got torn up pretty bad by that thing. He wasn't acting...normally. He was dangerous." Molly set the last glass of orange juice out on the table. The younger kids were all upstairs getting washed up and dressed for school. Harry was up there with them, with Charity supervising.

"Karrin, I told you. And okay. Okay. I hate to even bring it up, but we might need to contact the Council. Can you do that? Do you have a contact number or something?" Murphy flipped the pancake in the skillet.

"Uh. Well, yeah. I mean, Harry does, so we could go back to his place and get it. But." She flushed and looked down at the table. "Harry took responsibility for me, Karrin. If we call the Council in, and they find out Harry's not responsible any more..." She trailed off, but Murphy could finish the sentence. From what Harry had told her, he and Molly had just managed to dodge a death sentence with the whole Morgan affair. There were too many people on the Council that couldn't be trusted. The very least they might do would be to sweep in and take Harry and Molly away. More likely they'd take Harry away and execute Molly. Hell, they might execute Harry just for the hell of it.

"It's okay. But we need some help here. It's been three days already and he's not changing back. Cowl hasn't been back either, but I don't expect that to last. He's got to be out there getting something else together."

"Maybe Harry's wards killed him?"

"No body." Murphy waved the spatula through the air. "Maybe Harry's wards disintegrated him, but we're not usually that lucky. Better to assume that he's alive and coming back." She slid the last pancake onto the stack and handed the platter to Molly. "We need help. We need someone who knows more about magic than we do."

A small flood of children hit the dinning room and everything descended into organized chaos. Once everyone was fed, they all trooped out to the van for school drop offs. Molly washed up while Harry and Murphy took Mouse out into the back yard.

"You remember what we talked about this morning?"

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

"Yes. You've got to go to work and Michael's at work too. So it's just me and Molly and Charity and Mouse. So I have to stay inside." He kicked at a clod of grass and dirt. "Why can't I go to school? I'm really good at math."

"I'm sure. But we're having some trouble getting you enrolled at the new school. As soon as we get it straightened out we'll have you going to class, okay?" She ruffled his hair and smiled as he ducked his head out from under her hand. "I know it sucks, and I'm sorry. But you'll have fun with Molly and I've got some other people coming over too."

"Who?"

"Some kids about Molly's age." Ish. If you rounded up a lot. "You'll like Billy."

~

"How'd it go?" Murphy ran her hands through her hair, shaking it out from being crushed by her motorcycle helmet.

"Fine. They're in the back." Charity grabbed the helmet up from the end table Murphy had dropped it on and put it up in the closet.

"I thought we agreed he was going to stay inside." Irritation flowed through her words and Murphy stepped past the taller woman.

"They needed the space. And Molly's out there with Mouse. Just go see." Charity disappeared into the kitchen.

Mouse and Molly were sitting right outside the back door on the steps of the porch. Molly glanced up as Murphy came out the door and then grinned.

"He's quick." Molly pointed out into the yard where three huge dogs were chasing each other through the leaves. As Murphy watched she recognized Billy and Georgia's wolf forms, easily as long and tall as Mouse but leaner, sleek with muscle, rather than bulky. The difference between a runner and a weightlifter in looks, maybe. The third wolf was smaller, his paws had the outsized look of a puppy and his fur was thick and dark brown, nearly black.

"They taught him how to turn into a wolf?" Murphy felt like smacking herself in the head. Or maybe Billy. They were supposed to be extra security. Not cause more trouble.

"He knew there was something different about them." Molly shrugged. "Harry pestered them until Billy told him and then he convinced them to show him how they did it. He's a little con-man, Ms.- Karrin. He picked the trick up right away and they've been playing out here ever since."

A few seconds passed and then Billy the wolf caught sight of Murphy on the back porch. He turned to Georgia, barked something at her at ducked behind the addition. When he came back out he was human shaped and wearing a loose pair of sweats.

"I need to talk to you."

"Come on." They circled around to the side of the house, out of sight and out of hearing range.

"Harry doesn't smell right."

"What?"

"People smell like themselves, all the time. Yeah, you can try to hide it under different scents, but people still have a fundamental, individual them-smell that doesn't go away. It's how we can track people. And Harry doesn't smell like Harry."

"Are you saying that's not Harry?"

"No. I don't think it's a changeling or something. I mean, the kid still smells basically like Harry. But there's something else there. Some other scent that's all tangled up in his. Maybe it's the spell that did this but it's...it doesn't smell like a spell. It smells like something alive."

"Alive? How do you mean, 'alive'?"

Billy shrugged, uncertain. It was an uncomfortable look on the young man.

"I don't know. I'd say there were two people walking around everywhere Harry is, but I know there's not. We checked for people hiding behind veils once Georgia smelled it the first time. And it's not anything I've ever run into before, or I'd remember it. It's kind of foul, actually." His nose wrinkled unconsciously. "Rotten egg-y, but different."

"Perfect. Because this was going way too smoothly." Murphy dug her heel into the grass, making a shallow divot. "Well, fuck. I'm going to have to call him, aren't I?"

"Call who?"

~

"Sergeant." Marcone smiled down at Murphy, pleasant and completely meaningless. He'd come in jeans, which shocked her a little. She didn't think she'd ever seen him in anything other than a well-tailored suit. But there he was, faded blue jeans, dark t-shirt and a heavy leather jacket.

"I don't want you, Marcone. Just Ms. Gard."

"And here she is." He nodded back over his shoulder to where the blonde stood beside Hendricks, waiting. "I am not in the habit of simply obeying a request. Especially from you, Ms. Murphy."

"Listen, you scum sucking-" Childrens laughter drifted out of the house and she cut herself off. It was nearly dark and they needed to get going here. "It's Sergeant Murphy to you, Marcone. Always. Ms. Gard, did he explain what's going on?"

"Mr. Marcone shared what little information you had. Where is the child?"

"This way." She led them through the back yard, around to Michael's work shop. Michael opened the door as they came up, holding it as Harry staggered out, toting a small metal tool box. The hot water heater had given out and Harry had appointed himself Michael's assistant during the repairs. His 'assistance' was likely why it was taking so long, but it kept him busy and, well, hell. It was just cute. So no one had tried to stop him.

Michael caught sight of them and said something to Harry. He frowned up at the former Knight then glanced in their direction. Maybe it was just paranoia, worry from Billy's earlier revelation, but Murphy thought the look was hard, calculating. She tried to shake it off as they crossed the back yard. Harry had set the tool box down and was standing beside Michael, leaning into him a bit.

"Mr. Carpenter. It's good to see you on your feet again." Michael nodded at Marcone, his hand coming to rest protectively on Harry's shoulder. Harry was staring at Marcone, face intense.

"Mr. Marcone." Michael patted Harry gently. "Harry, why don't you go on into the house. Tell Charity we'll be in in just a minute."

"Yessir." He slipped out from under Michael's hand and jogged back to the house, glancing back every few steps.

"Is that normal for him?" Marcone watched him go, his face set in its normal pleasantly blank lines. "The staring, I mean."

"Not really, no."

"Interesting."

"And totally useless, actually. Unless you turned him into a twelve year old?"

"Hardly." Marcone walked past Murphy and into the light coming from the open workshop door. "He has little enough self control as an adult. I shudder to think of what he might be like as puberty hits."

"I'll need to examine him more closely to see if I can locate the spell." Gard stepped between Murphy and Marcone, separating them as much as possible. "He's not going to like it."

~

"'He's not going to like it'." Murphy put as much irritation and exhaustion as she could into the words.

"I did warn you." Gard pressed the ice pack to her nose. At least it had stopped bleeding for the moment.

"Not enough." Murphy glared down at the top of Marcone's head as he finished taping the bandage down on her arm. "What the fuck was that?"

"It was the shadow of something the wizards call Outsiders."

"The shadow?" Gard shrugged.

"A fragment of it. An echo. Definitely not the entire being, or some of us would be dead." As it was they'd gotten away with a lot of bruises, Gard's broken nose, and Hendricks' arm might have been broken. Marcone had come out the best, of course, with just one purpling bruise along his jaw.

"Is that what turned Harry back into a kid?"

"I doubt it. My best guess is that another wizard caused the reversion and that the fragment of the Outsider was already there, inside of Harry. As an adult he likely doesn't even notice it. But children have more...more room, I suppose. They haven't finished forming yet. It's feeding off of him, and probably growing." Gard stood and crossed to one of the small windows, looking out across the yard at the house.

"Can you reverse the spell?" Marcone had finished cleaning up Murphy's wounds and was now crouched in front of the work bench, examining the deep bruise on Harry's arm. The boy had freaked out as soon as Gard had drawn a rune on his forehead, tossing the woman across the room and then turning on the rest of them. It had been terrifying. Harry's power, maybe a little muted because of his youth, aimed at them. While he'd been focused on Murphy, Hendricks and Gard, Marcone had slipped around behind him and tackled him. Harry had snarled and bit at him, but Marcone held on until Gard had staggered over to snap a little tile over Harry's head. He'd dropped unconscious immediately and Marcone had pushed him up under the bench while they took stock of injuries.

"No. I'm not a wizard. My skills with magic of this kind are limited." Gard met Marcone's eyes. "You either need to get him to a wizard of sufficient skills to reverse the spell or to Monoc."

"Monoc. We're not taking him to the White Council." Harry snuffled a little in his sleep and Murphy looked to find he'd curled up around Marcone, looking for all the world like a long, lanky cat. "There's no way of knowing if any of them are the ones who cast the spell. Would this be covered under my contract with you?"

"No. Payment will have to be negotiated for this."

Marcone nodded.

"I'll handle it." He ran his hand over Harry's messy hair. "Arrange for a meeting, Ms. Gard."

~

"I know you." Harry bit his lip and stared at Marcone across the living room. Hendricks sat between the two of them, watching Harry closely. Gard and Murphy were outside, contacting Monoc. Michael had taken Charity and the children over to her mothers' home. He, Charity and Molly would be back as soon as they had the younger ones settled in.

"Yes, you do."

"You uh-" Harry frowned and it was clear he was trying to put together some random bits of thought. "There was a wolf. Or sort of a wolf. Huge. Bigger than Mouse, even. And you- you were kind of cool." The young man blushed and looked away.

"Thank you, Harry." Marcone smiled at him. "You did fairly well yourself, that night."

"Well, yeah. But I'm a wizard. You're like...Batman."

Marcone wasn't sure how he would have responded to that. He'd had the thought before, of course, in some loopy moments after fights but no one had ever said it out loud. Luckily, he didn't have to respond, as that was the moment the house was attacked.

There was a deep well of silence, as though all sound was sucked away and then everything rushed back in, an explosion of color, light and sound that had physical force. Windows shattered, splinters of glass flying everywhere and Marcone dove for Harry, trying to protect the boy. Hendricks beat him to it, dragging both Harry and Marcone down to the floor, shielding them.

When the noise stopped, Hendricks waited a second and rose, patting down Marcone quickly, checking for wounds as the man tried to wave him off.

"I'm fine. I'm fine. Check Harry." Hendricks shifted his attention to the boy. Harry had already risen from the floor and was running toward the front of the house.

"Dammit." Marcone pushed off the floor in one smooth move and ran after him, catching him in the hallway. "Stay back!"

"Murphy's out there!" Harry tugged, realized Marcone had a good grip on him and threw his hand out at Marcone, yelling "Forzare!" as he did. The magic caught him, swatted at him like a giant hand and sent him skittering into the far wall behind him.

Marcone's head spun nauseatingly but he staggered back to his feet, snarling. Harry wasn't any smarter as a child than he was as an adult. He followed Hendricks' quickly moving form down the hall and out into the front yard.

Silence, broken only faintly by shouts from near by neighbors and the tiny wail of sirens. Hendricks was crouched over Gard's still form, checking her pulse. Murphy was several feet away, pulling herself up against a tree. Mouse was nosing her, growling and whining. Marcone could see the dog was bleeding, favoring one leg as he tried to help the woman up. The yard was a ruin, what wasn't still smouldering was black and twisted, chunks of earth ripped from the ground.

There was no sign of Harry.

~

Harry shivered and stomped his feet, trying to make himself feel warm again. He'd woken up here in this little room a while ago. It was dark, and cold, and there was nothing in it. No mattress, no furniture, not even a light. He'd explored, slowly, just in case there was something else in there. When he'd first woken up he had thought he'd heard something. A scratching on the walls kind of sound. But there was nothing and no one. He'd yelled himself hoarse, trying to get someone to come. If they opened the door, maybe he could run out. But no one had come, and he'd given it up eventually.

He didn't remember how he'd gotten there, and he'd been trying. He knew he'd been at the Carpenters', talking to John. They'd been talking about the thing with the giant dog, the- the word came to him, out of nowhere, like things had been doing lately. The loup-garou. And then there'd been an explosion or something, and he'd run because Murphy was out front. John had tried to stop him and he'd thrown him into a wall. Harry winced at that. He liked John, he knew that much. And he felt bad for maybe hurting the man. But it was Murphy. And that fearful knowledge changed things. Made him do stupid stuff.

Or he thought it did, anyway. The thought felt right. Like it fit. Like he'd thought it before. Only he couldn't remember thinking it before. Or why he might have thought it before.

He slumped to the floor, head in his hands. His head was starting to ache, right behind his eyes.

Harry didn't know how long he sat there in the dark, eyes closed against it. He might have even started to drift off, because the scrape of a key in a lock made him jump, his skin going tight and cold.

The light coming from the doorway was soft, muted and it still made his eyes water it was so bright after what felt like forever in absolute darkness. Harry pushed himself to his feet, keeping his back to the wall and started trying to pull his magic and his will together.

It was hard, harder than it should have been. His head ached, he was tired and cold and his concentration was scattered. The magic kept slipping out of his control and Harry felt embarrassment and frustration curl up next to the fear in his chest. This was why Justin was so hard on him. Why he trained him so hard, so roughly. So he could fight back no matter what. And he was still screwing up.

A figure stepped into the door way, back lit and featureless and Harry bit down on his tongue, tangled the scraps of magic he could hold on to together and threw them at the figure, croaking out "Fuego!"

There was a tiny lick of flame, a black curl of smoke and then nothing. The spell died out before it reached the figure and the effort left Harry exhausted and shaking. Something was wrong with him. The spell should have just died out. It shouldn't have hurt him to throw it.

"Impressive. I know grown wizards who couldn't put a spell together through those drugs." The figure moved forward into the room, his voice calm and slow. He was tall, an old man with sharp features and thick silver-white hair. There was some kind of accent thickening his voice, but it wasn't something Harry had ever heard before. "You really are something, aren't you?"

The man made a quick gesture and murmured something that sounded slick and slippery. Harry felt his body go stiff, pressed in from all around by congealed air. Whatever spell the man was using to bind him, it was a lot better than the one he and Elaine had been working on. He tried to fight, twisting, looking for a weak spot, but the spell had just enough give to it to keep it from being brittle.

After a few useless minutes of fighting, he slumped and shook his head to clear the tears out of his eyes. He was not going to cry. He might be scared, and hurt and alone, but he was not going to cry.

"W-what do you want?" Harry heard the tiny shake to his voice and hated it.

The man put his hand on Harry's head, ruffling the hair there like Michael did, like John had. Harry jerked his head, but couldn't get away.

"You're going to finally fulfill your purpose, Harry. The reason you were born." He smiled, his teeth almost red in the light from the door. "It won't even hurt for long."

The man shoved at Harry and he toppled over, crying out as he hit the hard ground, stars and waves of black taking over his vision. Hands grabbed at him and he tried to kick, but of course he was still held tight in the spell.

He was thrown over a shoulder and carried jouncing out of the room and down a long hallway. Soft pained sounds forced their way out of him with every step. The sight of the floor going by beneath him, little more than a faint, gray blur made his head spin, blood pounding and he closed his eyes to try and keep from throwing up.

"Here we are." Harry found himself swung off the shoulder and then his back hit something solid.

He opened his eyes, but the room was bright, like the middle of the day and he was blinded. A weight pressed down over his chest, tight and then tighter, until he had to fight to breathe. There was a click, like something locking into place and then the spell around him broke.

His eyes were watering, blurry, but he could see the man and someone else, someone much smaller moving around him. More pressure, straps, pinned his hips down, his arms against his sides. A small hand grabbed at his ankle and he kicked, shouting and cursing, using every foul word he knew.

"Shhhh..." Fingers ran soothingly across his ankle as a woman's voice cooed at him. "Hush. It's all for the best. You'll see. I know you're frightened, but-"

"Enough!" The man again, and his big hand wrapped around his ankle, slamming his leg down and yanking the last strap tight enough that Harry felt the edge of it cut into his skin, a small trickle of blood following the curve of it. "Get on with it Kumori."

The woman murmured something and then moved away. Her voice lifted a few seconds later in a loud, rolling chant. Harry felt the power growing, slowly and steadily. The man, the one who'd attacked the house, the one who'd hurt Murphy, hurt Mouse and maybe killed everyone came to stand over Harry, watery blue-grey eyes lit with pleasure and power.

He stood there, waiting until Kumori's chant hit a rising crescendo and then he lifted a small cup, prying Harry's mouth open with his other hand.

Harry bit him, hard enough to draw blood, imagining his teeth sinking in to the bone. The man cursed and fumbled to set the cup down before he spilled it. He took hold of Harry's hair and slammed his head back into the wood of the table, once, twice, until Harry's jaw muscles went slack, his world narrowed down to a thin slice of sight as darkness and pain too the rest of it.

Something foul and oily was forced into his mouth and as he tried to spit it out a big hand clamped his jaw shut, covered his nose until he had to swallow, couldn't help it. The man let go and Harry dragged in as deep a breath as he could.

"It's a shame you're too rare to kill, Dresden."

Whatever it was he'd swallowed burned, felt like a weight inside of him. The man moved away, out of sight, and Harry heard the snap of energy, felt the press of magic as a circle was closed around him. Pain sliced through him, felt like it was trying to cut him open and rip him apart from the inside and he cried out, couldn't get enough air to scream.

In the middle of it all, with his blood pounding and the pain making him writhe, there was a tearing sound, a sensation of a dark, dank breeze and then something shimmered in the air over him. Something he couldn't see, except he could now, more and more. Wavering heat lines and then it started to fade into being, dark and smokey where it was visible at all.

Dark spots appeared in from of his face, coalesced and flickered and the thought skittered through Harry's brain that they were eyes. That they were his eyes, dark brown and hovering and then the vaporous thing laughed, deep and hissing as it started to move closer.

Harry found the breath to scream.

~

"Call Carpenter. We need Molly to meet us at the safe house."

Gard groaned and sat up, pressing against the cool leather of the seats to steady herself.

"Why do we need the girl?"

Murphy, Marcone's cellphone half-raised to her ear, turned and frowned at Gard.

"Tracking spell. I've been taking a little bit of Harry's hair every day, just in case he got away from us."

Gard snorted and reached for the small plastic baggy on Murphy's lap.

"Don't call her. I can do a tracking spell."

"Are you certain you're up to it?" Marcone turned from the passenger seat to look her over.

"I'm certain no two-bit warlock has enough power to take me out for long. I can do a tracking spell. Everything I need is at the safe house." Marcone nodded, and held out his hand for his phone.

~

"You have an army." Murphy settled her shoulders against the wall of the van, glaring across the space at Marcone. He checked yet another knife, at least the tenth that she'd counted in his hands and slid it into a sheath on his vest.

"Don't be ridiculous, Sergeant." He met her eyes, smiling. "At best it's half an army. And some of them are loaners." Marcone nodded his head at the rather large men to either side of them.

"Part of your deal with Monoc?" He inclined his head.

"Just so. Extra talent for certain situations." Marcone looked out the windshield. "I've yet to regret having more firepower at need."

"We're here." Hendricks rumbled at them from the front as the van came to a stop.

They all scrambled out in precise, ordered movements and as soon as Marcone hopped down from the back of the van a tall, blond man trotted over to him, doffing the black helmet he wore. He handed Marcone a rifle.

"Sir. We're moving men into position, there and there." He pointed. "Ms. Gard indicated they're in this warehouse here." He gestured to a smaller warehouse two down from the alley they'd stopped in. "We'll be ready to move in-"

A scream cut through the air. High and thin, a child's scream.

~

The pain didn't stop. It grew, worse and worse, fire and knives all through his body. The thing above him laughed, misty hands reaching out and grabbing his head. Harry could feel the fingers press against his skin, and then inside, sliding into his brain and digging in.

He thrashed, tasted blood in his mouth. He coughed on it, the sharp copper taste dripping down his throat and then he stopped feeling it.

The pain was still there, but it was removed from him. Harry knew that his body was going still, not fighting any more as a feeling of prickling cold settled in. The thing wasn't just seeping into his mind. He could feel it pressing down against his whole body, beginning to merge with him.

He watched, still trying to scream but he'd lost control of his own voice, through his own eyes as something else turned his head toward where Kumori and the man stood outside the circle.

Harry felt his mouth move, words formed with his lips and his tongue, but not from his mind and the thing used him to speak. He tried to get control back, to focus. He reached for the pain, to hold on to it as something real, and felt it all flood back into him. Harry clung to the pain, to the slicing knives in his stomach and felt the cold thing inside him shift, reaching for control again.

He fought back, his eyes still open, still trained on Kumori. His desperate grip on himself started to slip, losing ground and he felt despair clench around his heart. He wasn't strong enough.

Kumori staggered, her hands falling from above her head. Something slick and dark stained one shoulder of her robe, flowing down, a thin trickle at first and then faster as she staggered and pressed one hand to the spot.

Harry's tenuous grip on himself failed, and the thing surged forward, taking control. The last thing he saw before he was pushed back, away, was the man turning his head to look at Kumori, face twisting in anger as he saw her fall to one knee.

~

The woman fell, blood exploding from her side. The man, Cowl, whirled, growling and dropped his right hand, a shimmer of red energy forming between him and the windows Marcone was shooting through. Another shot hissed through the air and hit Cowl's shield right in front of his face. The wizard smiled, seemingly amused.

Murphy took her shot from the doorway, aiming at his side. It wasn't the best target, but it was the available one. She heard the impact a second before she saw the spray of blood and tissue from his hip. He flicked a glance at her, then returned his focus to his shield. Another shot pinged his shield, from the other side. The men Marcone had sent up on the surrounding roofs had their target.

His face set, the man raised his right hand toward the ceiling and said, conversationally, "Stromausfall."

Darkness covered the room, so thick Murphy thought she could touch it. She heard a tearing sound, familiar by now. Someone was opening a Way. Murphy dropped to the ground, crawling, trying to move forward without being able to see a damned thing. She heard the men who'd come in with her doing the same.

Air pressure popped in her ears and the darkness went away, slowly rolling back into the natural shadows of the room. Cowl and the woman were nowhere to be seen, the only sign of them a bloody smear on the concrete and Harry's small, limp form tied down to a table.

Murphy cursed, jumped up and made her way over to him. He was bruised and bloody. But breathing. She fumbled at the straps, fighting to release them. The men were clearing the room, signaling to the people they'd left outside.

She got the largest strap loose, freeing Harry's upper body and his arms and turned to deal with the rest of them. A small hand clamped down on her wrist, squeezing until the bones ground together.

Murphy turned her head, feeling sluggish, to face Harry, sitting up and grinning, his eyes a bottomless, solid black.

~

Something shattered, a popping, glass crashing down around him impression, which was weird, since there didn't seem to be anything at all around him. He followed the sound through nothingness until abruptly feeling and sight returned.

Harry found himself standing over a man he didn't know, fire cupped in his palm, apparently ready to melt the man's face off. There was shouting, the taste of magic in the air and Harry forced his hand to unclench from the man's shirt, letting him fall to the concrete, unconscious.

"Harry?" Murphy's voice cut through the violent, sharp taste of fighting and he turned to find her. She had a gun aimed at his chest, her face pale.

"Karrin?" He threw a shield up, between them. He ached to the point of numbness and he was covered in soot and blood. "W-what's going on? Where are they?"

"Lose the fire, Harry. And get down on the floor." Harry thought she sounded frightened. He did as she asked, dismissing the magic for the fire spell and dropping his shield. He stepped back from the fallen man and dropped to his knees, his fingers and face going cold, a faint tremor making itself felt.

"I- I don't feel so good, Karrin." His stomach rolled, twisted, and then he was face down on the floor, cool against his cheek. A stab of pain shot through him, made him curl up into himself, and then everything went silent and black once again.

~

Harry grunted and swatted at the hand pressed against his forehead, trying to turn over onto his side. A laugh rumbled around him, deep and resonant.

"Are you awake now, little wizard?"

"Who you callin' little?" He muttered, blearily, and opened his eyes. One blue eye stared down at him out of a craggy face, a patch covering the place where the other eye should have been. The man straightened, and Harry felt a little twinge. Sure, he was flat on his back, but the man was huge. "Oh."

"Indeed." He turned his head. "Inform them that it's done. They can come in if they wish."

Memories started to filter in as Harry lay there. Waking up to Charity, Murphy and Butters. Mouse being so much bigger than he really was. Helping Michael around the house. Feeling loved. Cared for. Cowl. 'The only reason you were born.' The Outsider. Inside of him.

"Fucking-!" He sat up, grasping at his chest even though he knew the creature didn't leave a physical mark, not like that. "Is it- who-" A big hand pushed him back down onto the bed.

"You may call me Donar. It's gone. Or as gone as it ever is. You know you carry a part of it with you, don't you?"

"From when it attacked me as a kid. Yeah. I thought it was just a scar though." Donar shook his head.

"No. More than that." The door opened, and Marcone walked in. "We'll speak more later, Harry." Donar patted Marcone on his way past, shutting the door behind himself.

Harry felt his face heat up. He had the distinct memory of waking up curled around Marcone, the man's hand running over his hair like you'd pet a cat.

"You're still a scummy criminal asshole."

Marcone smirked.

"No I'm not. I'm...Batman." Harry groaned and threw one of the pillows from behind his head at Marcone. He caught it and tucked it under one arm. "You're welcome."

"I hate you." Harry crossed his arms, staring at the ceiling. He was not remembering thinking how cool Marcone was, or how much he liked him. Definitely not.

"One day, Harry, you're going to learn to stop lying to yourself." Harry could practically feel the wave of smugness coming off the man. "I can hardly wait to see it. Sergeant Murphy will be along shortly. Her burns are being seen to." Harry flinched, but said nothing.

They sat in silence for a few seconds.

"Are they dead?"

"The woman..."

"Kumori."

"She may be dead. I doubt the man known as Cowl is. They did not die conveniently where we could collect their bodies." Harry frowned and held out a hand for his pillow. Marcone handed it back without a word.

"Thank you."

They both knew he wasn't talking about the pillow.


End file.
